


Sugar

by castielsass



Series: Spideypool Kink Prompts [11]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:35:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsass/pseuds/castielsass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>spideypool for icarusforgotten with ‘look, peter, no hands!” as a prompt. in a totally unrelated note did you know ‘look, no hands’ is also a reference to blowjobs without using one’s hands? fascinating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icarusforgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusforgotten/gifts).



“I’m-” Peter panted, rolling his hips upward, short shallow thrusts. He propped himself up on his elbows. “What did you say?”

A series of garbled noises spilled out from Wade’s mouth, tongue working at Peter’s overheated skin. He sank back onto the pillow and puffs of dust flew up either side of his head. His hands came up underneath the pillow, fingers curled in the cool side while he writhed, prominent hip bones moving like a wave under sweating skin.

“O-ooh, can you not talk with my stuff in your mouth, it scares me,” Peter rambled out, proud of himself for even making a coherent sentence. Wade pulled off the tip of his cock with a lascivious ’pop’ and a moan made Peter’s throat vibrate before he realised he was making noise.

“Can you not call your junk your ‘stuff’, it makes me feel weird and tingly in places that shouldn’t be tingly,” Wade responded. His hands lay proud and warm on Peter’s hips, scars pressing against jutting hipbones. Peter’s ass sank into Wade’s dusty mattress with the weight.

“What did you say, earlier?” Peter asked, before waving a hand at his dick in reminder. Wade balanced himself on one hand, leaning hard on Peter’s waist and dragged the back of his hand across his wet mouth gracelessly.

“I said, ‘look ma, no hands’, but you didn’t get it. Rude,” Wade said. He dropped down hard on his elbow, caught Peter hard on the hip and propped his chin up.

“I still don’t get it,” Peter admitted. At some stage, his eyes had been fixed glassily on Wade’s ceiling and the face of God had appeared to him in the mould. Wade’s rambling hadn’t really affected him. Peter dropped down on the pillow again, glancing up at the ceiling in exasperation. His dick throbbed along with his heartbeat and he could just almost feel Wade’s hand on him, right there, warm and heavy and scarred on the soft curve of his hip. Wait, is that black mould? Wade was still talking but Peter waved a hand at him.

“Is that black mould?”

Wade glanced up at the ceiling and said unconvincingly “It’s art. Watercolours.”

“Do you know how dangero-” Peter started, almost sitting up, before Wade put a hand on his ribs and shoved him back down unceremoniously. He swallowed Peter’s dick down like it was made of chocolate and Peter’s hips came up with a rough shove and a gasp. Oh, that was what he meant.

“No hands indeed,” Peter said with a crack in his voice. He could literally feel Wade sigh around his dick and he tried to follow his mouth when Wade pulled off and said “Shut up, nerd.”

“Shutting up, nerd.”


End file.
